Chapter 74: Meeting Lily’s Mother Again (Part-2)

“Here in the car? Can we not do this once we reach your place?” Mrs. Storm asks, throwing a quick glance at Reagan and outside the window.

“No, I want you to strip now. And don’t worry, the windows are tinted. No one from outside can see us,” I assure her.

Mrs. Storm still looks a bit reluctant, but I know that she has already made up her mind to do whatever I want— after all, it’s to save her beloved daughter.

Wordlessly, she grabs the hem of her white robes and starts removing them from her body. As her clothes are specially tailored, it just takes mere seconds to get out of them completely. And finally, I get to see her half-naked body once again.

Wow…

I cannot find even a trace of a bruise on Mrs. Storm’s beautiful white skin. With those grotesque injuries gone, her curvy body is giving out an extremely mature and formidable charm without anything to hold it back.

Her amazing breasts, that are a few sizes bigger than even Lily’s, are protruding upward, making a deep cleavage wrapping inside the black bra. Her stomach, that is just slightly out of shape, is just adding greatly to her charm, making my heart skip a beat. And her plump thighs, which are tightly closed, are evoking my natural desire as a man to see what’s hidden between.

“Take off the sunglasses and wipe the makeup. I want to see your face as well,” I say after spending a few moments in a trance.

Quietly following my orders, Mrs. Storm takes off her huge black sunglasses, revealing her striking blue eyes. Then, taking out a handkerchief, she starts to wipe off her heavy makeup.

… Beautiful.

A single word appears in my mind as I look at Mrs. Storm’s natural face. She doesn’t have a black eye anymore, and her blackened lips have also healed up nicely. And even though there’s a cold look on her face, her beauty not losing against her daughter; Lily, or some of the gang women I know.

Well, it’s good to know that Lily got her beautiful looks from her mother.

“This is enough. You don’t have to take off your underwear,” I tell Mrs. Storm as she moves her hand behind her back to unhook the bra.

Hearing this, she looks quite surprised but doesn’t say anything— simply retracting her hands.

Okay, let’s start then…

I slowly move my hand and rest them on top of Mrs. Storm’s knees. Immediately, she closes her eyes and purses her lips, preparing to face my attack— but she doesn’t have to.

I simply force her thighs apart and look if there are any bruises in the inner part. Once assured that there aren’t any, I move my hands and lift up her arms instead, repeating the same process.

“Turn around now,” I say.

Mrs. Storm opens up eyes with a flutter. Obediently, she turns around on the seat and shows her backside to me.

“Tch… There are bruises here.”

I say, clicking my tongue as I finally find bruises on the upper part of Mrs. Storm’s back. Even though they are faint and few in number, I don’t want to just ignore them.

“I guess you couldn’t reach there with your hand, huh?” I ask.

“No, I couldn’t,” She answers in a flat tone.

Sigh…

“Do you have the cream here with you?”

“It’s in my purse, why?”

Without answering the question, I grab the purse lying next to her and open it up. Inside, there’s a thick wad of cash, an old phone, and a tube of cream. I pick up the tube, squeezing a considerable amount of cream on my hand, and start gently applying it on the smooth back of Mrs. Storm.

Feeling the coldness of the cream, Mrs. Storm shivers a little and turns around her head to look at me.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Nothing, just helping you apply the cream since you can’t do it yourself,” I tell her simply.

“There’s no need for you to do that. I will ask Bella to do it later,” she says.

Then why didn’t you ask her before?

“Is that so? Well, I am nearly done. Let me finish,” I say.

Mrs. Storm glares at me but doesn’t protest, letting me do what I want.

“Okay, I am done. You can wear your clothes now,” I tell her after a couple of minutes, wiping my hands with a tissue.

“Wear my clothes?”

Mrs. Storm turns around, a deep frown on her face. She’s probably confused as to why I am asking her to get dressed without ravaging her like a beast I am (in her eyes).

“Why, you don’t want to?” I ask with a small laugh, raising my eyebrows.

She opens her mouth to say something but then decides against it. Giving me a faint nod, she picks up her white robes and starts wrapping them around herself again.

Throughout the rest of the journey, no one speaks. Mrs. Storm keeps throwing glances at me from time to time— sometimes looking cold and angry, sometimes looking confused— but I just stare ahead, not looking back at her.

Reagan, who’s sitting next to the driver, keeps observing both of us through the rear-view mirror with an amused smile on her face. Surprisingly, she kept her word and didn’t interrupt me in my plan— for which, I am grateful despite myself.

Once we reach our destination, all of us (excluding the driver) get out of the car. Reagan and I make our way into the woods, towards Zoe’s base, and Mrs. Storm follows behind.

“Where are we going?” Mrs. Storm asks in a low voice.

“You will see,” I say airily.

We walk a bit further and reach the run-down shed in the middle of the forest. Getting inside, I open up the hidden metallic trap door and gesture Mrs. Storm to climb down the ladder first— which she reluctantly agrees to. Reagan and I climb down right after her.

“What is this place!?” Mrs. Storm asks, gasping in surprise as the three of us step into the dark, dimly-lighted corridor.

“You don’t need to know. Consider it as my secret house. And yes, you cannot tell anyone about this place or you already know what will happen,” I say in a stern voice.

I am not sure if I can tell Mrs. Storm anything about the gang. But well, after meeting Reagan, riding in that sedan, and seeing this huge underground place— there’s no way she hasn’t already guessed that I am not a simple guy.

“I will be going ahead,” Reagan announces suddenly.

And without waiting for a reply, she goes through the corridor and disappears through one of the doors at the other end. As we are following my plan now, there’s no need for her to stay next to me anymore.

“Okay, come with me,” I say, holding Mrs. Storm’s hand.

From the last time I visited this place, I remember where most of the doors ahead lead to. After a few minutes of walking, Mrs. Storm and I reach the corridor where the rooms of the gang women are situated. As most of the members of Zoe’s squad are temporarily shifted to Abigail’s base, most of these rooms are empty.

Out of these empty rooms, I choose the one that’s closest to us and lead Mrs. Storm inside.

“I guess you already know what to do now, Adeline. This time, just remember to take off your underwear as well,” I say, closing the door shut behind.

As expected, Mrs. Storm starts to undress again without a seconds’ delay. As her bra and panties come off, I get an unobstructed view of her perky breasts and nether regions. Unlike last time, her brown pubic hair is neatly trimmed, making her thin slit clearly visible to me.

“Now, get on the bed and wait for me,” I say, starting to undress as well.

Mrs. Storm follows my order and lay down on the bed sideways, looking at me emotionlessly like a doll. Once I remove every bit of clothing from my body, I also move to the bed and lay down right behind her.

Once settled comfortably, I move my hand and wrap it around Mrs. Storm’s stomach— careful not to touch her breasts. Then, moving a bit closer, I spoon her from behind, hugging her tightly.

Naturally, as my dick gets presses against her round ass, it starts to get hard. Feeling my hot rod penetrating her butt crack, Mrs. Storm starts to tremble uncontrollably. And not only that, her whole body also starts to sweat profoundly even though the room is air-conditioned.

Just from this, I could tell that her calm expression is just a facade. Mrs. Storm is not showing it, but she’s actually really scared right now.

And seriously, how could she not?

Before my dick could get any bigger and reach the area between Mrs. Storm’s thighs, I move it away— resting it against her waist instead. Then finally, taking a deep relaxing breath, I whisper into her ears.

“I am tired. Let’s sleep for a while like this, shall we?”